Red Typhoon
by floodmaster16
Summary: Sudden militia activity, advanced military hardware and drug smuggling, diplomatic tempers flaring and a dangerous paramilitary force, all threatening to bring down the NATO-Kyrgyzs relationships. Reaper Squad's covert assignment could bring peace or ignite a powder-keg. Not directly linked with the general CoD timeline.
1. Something is off

**Chapter 1: Something is off**

**NATO Military Complex No. 9284-54, Location Classified**

**Reaper Squad Leader, Codename "Viper"**

**September 3, 2015**

Viper marched down the door-lined corridor. His steps echoed on the enclosed space, dispite the fact that it was somewhat-crowded with administrative staff. He stopped in front of a secretary's desk, waiting for her to finish the call she was taking.

"He's waiting for you inside, Captain" as she pointed to the door with a pen in her hand.

Viper entered the office without saying anything but a "thanks", and stood in attention at the man inside.

"At ease, son, this is a semi-informal affair" declared General Julius Robertson.

"Sir?" he responded, relaxing his stiff posture slightly, but still generally at attention.

"There's something I need to talk you about, but before that I need you to understand that what I'm about to tell you must not leave this room" the General's expression hardened as he said this.

Viper felt uneasy, being called here in the middle of his routinary activities and then be asked to keep a secret he still didn't know, but the General wasn't stupid, in all honesty all he had to do was pull rank and he would still have to keep his hole shut, so he played along and complied.

"Over the past days our Reaper drones began to notice activity spikes all over Kyrgyzstan's border. At first we chalked it up to insurgent movements, we know the border to be an Area of Operations of extremist groups, but never on this magnitude, in fact, such movements where relatively small, confined to drug smuggling operations. But since exactly five days ago we've noticed an increased influx of personnel and materiel through the borders, most of them military-type cargo trucks and technicals, apparently operating as escorts for the convoys." as he explains this, he places the drone imaging on his desk for Viper. "Both NATO and the Kyrgyzs government are worried of what this means, since no army unit is recorded to be operational."

Viper watched the imaging carefully, already tracing assault patterns and looking for high-ground spots which would give him and his team the advantage over the technicals, a hard task considering the thermal imaging was slightly blurry an it deformed the terrain enough. _They wouldn't see us coming_, he thought when he found what appeared to be suitable suppresive fire vantage points. _No green light yet, so don't get ahead of yourself_.

"Permision to speak freely, sir"

"Speak your mind, son, you are not in a court room and I'm not a Drill Sergeant"

"Why are you telling me this, sir? This seems like actionable intel on posible enemy movements, I would be expecting me and my team to be told about this during a pre-mission brifing, not in private, sir" Viper's choice of words was probably poor, but he wasn't a very "chatty" person; his ex-girlfriend would gladly attest to that.

Robertson looked at him, sizing the man, trying to determine if he was a trustworthy person. Satisfied with his assessment, he decided to drop the bomb on him, unsure about his reaction

"I need you to understand this, son, Kyrgyzstan has a friendly and cooperative relationship with NATO, but inserting troops in the area woud make tempers flare, specially those of the chicoms. Command has agreed that a covert operation is the way to go, and that means something off the books. I'm telling you this because of you and your team's record over the past years" the General declared, never taking his eye off Viper, who shifted on his feet. Accepting to partake in a covert operation meant a lot of things: his team would be on his own, on hostile territory, with minimum radio contact and support, and, in the event any or all of them were killed or captured, their activities would be disavowed and their governments would turn their backs on them. It was something to think about carefully, specially when it was not only his own life at stake.

"Sir, in the hypothetical case you were to request me and my team to undertake this assignment, I firmly believe that my men should be made known of the nature of the operation, and the potential ramifications of failure"

"I expected this, Captain, but remember, no leaks about this, only you and your men are authorized to discuss this information between yourselves. Violation of this agreement will carry out svere sanctions, the least of which will be a court martial, understood?"

"Yes, sir"

"You're dismissed"


	2. Pre-mission Jitters

**Second chapter, feel free to leave your thought in the Reviews section.**

2. Pre-mission jitters.

**Barracks**

Viper had managed to reunite his squad on the barracks. Some of them had been on-leave on the nearby town (aproximately 10 miles away from base) . After the last man arrived, Viper pulled out the drone imaging from a folder, courtesy of General Robertson and briefed the men as thoroughly as posible.

"Listen up, here's the situation. Aproximately five days ago our drones began picking up a substantial amount of enemy activity along Kyrgyzstan's border. Command suspects these movements to be militia reinforcements en route to current combat hotspots all over the Middle East. Nevertheless, the brass wants boots on the ground to assess the situation and determine the nature of these movements. The codename for this operation is _Red Typhoon_. Command has confirmed two possible LZs, Alpha is here, aproximately 50 kilometers east from the border with Uzbekistan, and near an actively used dirt road that leads toward the less-vigilated part of the borderpass. Landing here implies assessing the convoys that attempt to furtively make their way to Uzbekistan. Drone imaging confirms escorts for these convoys, a number of no less than 5 technicals, possibly armed with _M2 _or _DShK_ heavy machine guns. LZ Bravo, on the other hand, is here, 20 miles North-West of Talas. Imaging confirms unknown military personnel concentrated around a 2-mile radious, Intelligence suspects there's an enemy C2 located in this area, should we land here, our orders are to recon the area, collect any Intel on enemy positions and destroy any materiel on sight. We will be Inserted by air, HALO jumping out of an MC-130J. Our exfil will be arranged after our objectives are met and we are secure to leave. Questions?"

Hawk, the Designated Marksman of the team, was the first to raise his hand.

"Sir, this seems like a high-stakes mission, why aren't we being briefed by the brass themselves, sir?"

_He is always the thinker, _Viper thought to himself. "Not going to lie to you, people. This will be an off-the-books assignment. Should we carry on with this mission we will officially be on our own, on hostile territory with minimum-to-no support. If things go South while out there NATO will disavow us and deny any ties with us. For these reason I will not order anyone into this mission, I'm asking for volunteers. Anybody who does not wish to be part of this mission can walk away, but must not, under any circumstances, talk about anything I've just told you. Should you do so you will be prosecuted by a military court."

The room fell silent, the threat hanging in the air. In all honesty, it was the first time Viper had ever asked them to volunteer, not that they would back down at all, they knew what their job was. Everyone volunteered on the spot, and Viper suddenly felt confident about the succes chances of the mission.

"Very well" Viper said, "the MC130 leaves tomorrow at o1oo hours. You know the drill, 1 hour earlier on the tarmac with your combat gear ready for check-up. You are dismissed."

The squad left, some to the mess hall an others to the basketball court, leaving Viper alone for a moment. He pulled his phone out and dialed Robertson's number.

"Are they in, Captain?"

"Yes, sir, they are all in"

"Good, then you should get some rest, the hardest days of your life are coming your way."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Viper, good luck"

"Thank you, sir"

Viper cut the call andwent to his personal bunk, near the barrack's door, readying himself for what he knew would be dream-filled slumber.

_The mountains are steep, Viper runs as the bullets snap when they hit the rocks around him. He stops and brings his 416 up while covering behind a good-sized rock. The weapon barks single rounds as he pulls the trigger, carefully picking his shots to conserve ammunition. 5 meters ahead Jonesy fires his M240B in short, controlled bursts, while Hawk and Jester make their way to cover, running 10 meters past Viper and stopping to cover Jonesy's retreat. The team's gunner begins to run, craddling his weapon in his arms, the ammo belt loudly clinking against his l egs._

"_Tossing frag!" shouts Viper, pulling an M67 fragmentation grenade from his plate-carrier. He pulls the pin and tosses the grenade on a high-arc, depletting the fuse quickly, and, as the grenade lands 30 meters ahead, he ducks behind the rock as the grenade explodes, showering the enemies with shrapnel and metal fragments, killling 3 of them and injuring 6 more. Downhill, Ace and Whopper provide covering fire, Ace with his HK 416 and Whopper with an MP7. Viper moves downhill as his team covers his retreat, and they continue this peculiar piggy-back excersise until they reach a flat area, at which point the squad takes cover and open fire at the enemies still coming down from up the mountain. 7.62 rounds hiss and snap all around them, with the constant staccatto of AKMs and other automatic weapons._

"_RPG! 2 O' CLOCK!" Ace shouts, as he discharges five rounds against the threat. The enemy succumbs, but his finger depresses the trigger in an act of reflex, and the rocket flies forward, erratically heading towards the team. The rocket grenade then shaply turns left and hits Viper in the chest, not detonating but knocking him back and blowing the air out of his lungs. He falls on his back and yells as an inmense pain ripples through his chest._

"_CAPTAIN!" Whopper shouts, as he sprints towards him, grabs him by his vest and pulls him to cover. Suddenly, an explosion happens, the rocket's fuse finally doing its job. The explosion sends dust into the air, forcing Viper to close his eyes..._

As he wakes up, Viper notices that his heart is accelerated. He is not startled, it wasn't the first time he's dreamed about combat, but the dream had an odd sense of finality that sent a shiver down his spine. He looks at the digital clock on his desk. 11:00 p.m. Time to get up. He stands up, makes his bed, and then proceeds to the showers, letting the water wash away the remnants of his dream and bringing back his concentration. The team had chosen to hit the possible enemy camp first, since attacking the convoys would probably scare them away, and would thus destroy any important intel they had, but the number of hostiles was potentially greater, and this prospect had worried Viper since then. As he finishes his shower and puts on his uniform, the rest of the team wakes up and does the same as he, all of them ready in less than 30 minutes.

_Who said the service didn't teach you anything useful..._

Feel free to review and leave your input.


	3. High Altitude, Low Opening

**Chapter 3: High Altitude, Low Opening**

The MC-130J rode the frigid air above mountainous terrain. Reaper Squad members were sitting along the right side of the cargo bay, their camouflaged Army Combat Uniforms matching in pattern with their Kevlar Plate carriers. Their uniforms were devoided from insignias and their personal effects had been gathered by one of the crew members in a box, standard proceedure for covert special operations. The squad was now silently going through their mission in their minds, some of them with their eyes closed.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pilot anounced "Two Minutes" over the cargo bay crew's headset, who in turn raised a finger, indicating that they were a minute away from their drop zone. Viper decided to drop on LZ Bravo, since attacking a possible enemy camp could provide valuable intel on the enemy forces and avoid any unwanted attention on them. As a minute bled away, the team stood up and checked each other's equipment, tugging straps and checking the latches before patting their partner on the shoulder, who turned and did the same to them. Viper headed aft, toward the cargo ramp, which would be openng any minute now.

"Ready, Captain?!" asked the Crew Chief, shouting to be heard over the roar of the turboprop engines.

"Yeah!. Do me a favor, could you? Would you give this to my ex-girlfriend?!" says Viper, as he flips his middle finger to the Crew Chief, who immediately laughs, "it's the only thing she's gonna get!"

"She's already got everything else!" Snaps back the Crew Chief, making them both laugh, until the pilot gives the final order to prepare to jump. The squad prepares for the jump, and the ramp begins to lower. The deafening roar of wind fills the aircraft, and the soldiers secure their oxygen masks to their faces, tightening the seals and doing a last quick-check of their gear, including their weapons. The red light previously emitted from the back of the plane's ramp suddenly changed to green, and the Crew Chief yelled "Jump, jump, jump!". The squad raced toward the dark void of the night, leaving the aircraft and going on a free fall.

Dropping from 25,000 feet, the soldiers scattered slightly, giving their partners room for their parachutes to open safely. They all kept an eye on their altimeters and their formation at intervals, while they continued on a free fall, quicky reaching a terminal velocity of 126 mph. Viper was so concentrated on the process that he was caught extremely off-guard when the Automatic Activation Device of his parachute malfunctioned and sent a signal for his parachute to open at 10,000 feet. Murphy's Law slapped him again when his parachute failed to deploy and sent him on an uncontrolled spin.

"Boss, you alright?" called Whopper over the team's radio-channel. Viper fought to regain control of his fall, stopping his spin and looking back at his altimeter. 4,000 feet. At 3,500 feet he tugged the reserve parachute chord, which deployed his reserve parachute. He landed on a rock incline, flexing his knees to reduce the impact in his joints. After regaining his footing and collapsing his parachute canopy, he sent a call over the radio.

"Reaper squad, gimme a sitrep, over"

"What happened, boss? Your chute popped before the mark"

"Damned AAD malfunctioned, deployed the chute before time, and the canopy didn't deploy correctly. Anybody with you?"

"I got Jonesy and Hawk over here, Ace says he's some 200 yards west of us and closing in fast"

"Then where the hell did Whopper landed?"

"I'm coming to you Cap, don't shoot to your north-east, I don't want to catch a bullet yet"

Viper turned slightly to his right and saw the squad's medic sprinting to his position. The run uphill left him winded-up, but he regained his composture with a couple of good breaths.

"Had a bumpy ride, huh, Cap?" He jabbed at him, while giving him a quick physical chech to make sure he didn't suffer any physical injury from the failed deployment.

"Not in a mood for jokes, Whopper. Am I fit for fighting or do I have to get Skyhooked out of here?" Viper retorted.

"We don't use Skyhook anymore, sir, it's been almost 20 years since it went practically dead. Ok, you seem to be fine, no injuries I can tell about. Feeling any pain?"

"Just the sore knee, it should go away soon enough" Viper dismissed

"Whatever, it's your own safety"

"Shut it, we need to get moving. Jester, where are you and the rest?"

"According to satelite imaging you are some 2 miles south of us, Captain, but we missed our LZ by 10 miles, we'll have to walk to the objective and the sun will probably be up by the time we reach it"

"Damn it!" muttered Viper to himself, "Haul ass to the objective, we'll link-up along the route. Stay out of sight, engage combatants only."

"Roger, see you on the other side boss"

"WILCO, Actual out"

Whopper checked his MP7's suppressor and waited for orders.

"Ok, the rest of the squad is linking-up with us along the way. We are aproximately 12 miles from the objective, we have to get there before sun-up. We engage combatants only and stick to suppressed weapons. Come on, we are Oscar Mike"

**Feel free to review, they help... sometimes...  
><strong>


	4. The Line

**Chapter 4: The Line**

**Attention: This chapter contains references to mass-murder and sexual abuse, things that unfortunately DO happen in real war. If you have a sensivity to these topics, better wait for the next chapter. You were warned.**

**Kyrgyzstan, 20 miles from Talas**

The walk was excrutiating, particularly so due to the ondulating terrain and the need to conserve the stealth in order to reach the objective quietly. While Jester, Hawk, Ace and Jonesy made their own way toward the Op Area, Viper and Whopper silently moved through mountainous vegetation, constantly stopping to check for patrols and enemy positions, Viper taking point and Whopper covering his back as they crouch-walked.

Despite Intel reports of the area being hot, they hadn't seen any kind of activity. After walking for aproximately an hour, they reached the edge of a small village-like city. The place was only some plain-looking concrete buildings, with a couple of them brandishing some kind of distinction, like ornate facades or solariums. Viper noticed that there was no movement on the street, nor iluminated windows on the buildings. While it wasn't something completely out-of-place, since it was 4:43 in the morning, the lack of street lamps casting light was. Viper then pulled out his binoculars and began to pick up details: litered garbage and debris on the streets, bullet markings in walls and marks leading somewhere deep into the forest, mainly truck tire-marks and footprints on the mud-roads.

"What do you see, Cap?" whispered Whopper, who kept a watch on their perimeter in case of unwelcomed visitors.

"There's something weird about this place, it looks like it has seen combat, but there doesn't look to be any occupation of sorts. It almost seems like it was just sweeped and then left alone"

"What are your orders?"

"We'll come back later to see what's going on in here. In the mean time, we are gonna follow those footprints, since they go in the general direction we are following"

"WILCO"

They climbed down from the slightly-elevated Observation Point they had been using, sticking to the vegetation in order to break their body outline. They followed the prints on the mud deep into the forest, expecting to find something that gave them a clue as to what the heck was going on around here.

At some point, a putrid and eye-wattering smell began to fill their nostrils and clinging to their uniforms. A lump formed in Viper's stomach, while Whopper gagged at the stench. They hearts began beating faster, for they had already experienced the smell before, but never so concentrated and powerful. They then reached a small clearing in the thick forest and heard voices. Fighting against the smell, Viper held a balled-up hand, indicating Whopper to stop. They crouched, Whopper now lying besides Viper, looking at the clearing before them. To human figures were standing near what appeared to be a hole in the ground, a campfire by their side. Both operators had to take off the PANODs they had been wearing, since the glare from the fire registered as an intense white glare that resulted unpleasant and blinding. They could hear snippets of conversation, but, to their surprise, it was not in Kyrgizs, but Russian.

"Ivans? Here?" Whopper whispered, surprise clear on his voice

Viper said nothing, he was just as surprised. Why would Russians be here, specially after last year's incident on the Crimea? It made absolutely no sense, they always preached their "determination of peace" for the area. Or so they said.

"Wait a sec" exclaimed Viper, using his binos again. He then picked up small details that they had missed before: the uniform they were using was not the official uniform of the Russian Armed Forces for this kind of operations. They were also devoided of any military insignias, and their gear seemed more occidental and less-regulated, one of them carrying a G36K carabine and the other an AKM assault rifle. Where a unit patch would normally be, there was only a small wolf-like design.

"I don't know who these guys are, but they are not with the Russian Military" whispered back Viper, "In fact, they look a lot more like mercs or hired guns"

"What? Why?"

"Look at their uniform and weapons" Viper hushed, passing the binoculars, "their clothes are almost civilian and their weapons are not standard"

Whopper noted the details, after which he was at a loss of words.

"Orders, sir?"

Viper pondered about this question, but the pungent smell that permeated the area made the decision clear.

"Weapons free, one shot, one kill" he ordered, thumbing his HK 416 fire-selection lever to _semi-automatic_.

He sighted through the rifle's Red/Green Dot scope and positioned the small dot on the left target's chest, on the area where the heart would normally be. Whopper did the same with his own weapon, an HK MP7 PDW, setting the sight's front blade on the right target's torax. Viper squeezed the trigger, Whopper following close, and the two near-simultaneous suppresed shots rang, followed by two wet _TWACKS! _when the rounds impacted their targets, Viper's one shredding his target's heart, and Whopper's piercing his target's left lung. The fallen combatant wheezed as he struggled to breath, but his punctured long filled with blood, and after 5 minutes he finally chocked with the fluid.

After making sure those were the only targets, both soldiers stood on their feet and cautiously moved toward the fallen enemies. As they grew closer their hearts fell on their chests. In front of them was a mass-grave, filled to the top with corpses, all of them in civilian clothes and in several states of decomposition. Viper stood there, mouth slightly open, while Whopper covered his mouth and looked in another direction. On the outer edge of the grave where scattered personal effects, undoubtly from the people who now occupied the hole on the ground. Viper spotted a hand-made ragdoll on top of some suitcases, and then leaned down to pick it up. It's eyes were a couple of sewn buttons, and sported a cheerfully-colored dress. He then scanned the piled corpses. He found a 12 year-old girl, unceremoniously tossed on the pit along with a middle-aged woman. Their chests showed two gun-shot wounds, one near the lungs and another bellow their sternum. Viper averted his eyes when he realized the girl's skirt was tattered and she was missing underwear, correctly deducing that, whoever was responsible for this, had saw fit to sexually-abuse an innocent 12 year-old girl and a woman. _What kind of person can do that and move along like nothing happened?, _he thought to himself, closing his eyes, trying to momentarily be somewhere else, anywhere but here. He composed himself and looked around the small camp set by the two targets they had just killed. He found an OD green drape on one of the tents and went back to the little girl and the woman beside her, covering their lower bodies to at least give them some measure of decency on their deaths, not wanting to think what he would do if he ever found out who had done this. He then left the doll on the girl's chest, not knowing if it was really her's, but at this point it didn't relly mattered, did it?

"Whopper, sitrep" requested Viper, his voice shaken and slightly broken by the shock. Whopper still had a knot on his throat and a face that Viper could not described with any word but a mix of shock and anger.

"We are still more than 15 miles away from our AO" he finally said, voice hoarse as he tried to push the grave on the back of his mind.

"I... have to take pictures, as evidence... Oh, God... Jesus..."

"You okay, boss?"

"Yes, it's just... I've never... god dammit..."

He pulled out a digital camera from his combat pack and then proceeded to take pictures of the... mounstrosity he had in front on him. He avoided photographing the two women he had covered, feeling already guilty enough for discovering them before. While he did this, Whopper kept his sight on the perimeter, fixing his attention on keeping them alive. Viper stopped and re-packed the camera, deciding to send the pictures to Command on the next programmed radio-contact. They both then left the place after extinguishing the campfire; their clothes were impregnated with the unbearable smell of death, and this refresed the nightmare they had just experienced.

_As a soldier, there's a line that you never cross. They just did it. But who are they?_

**These themes are serious, and integral to real-life warfare, so I would appreciate if they were touched with the seriousness they deserve. There will be more themes of this kind, so discression is going to be necessary.**


	5. Contact

**Contact**

**Near Talas, Kyrgyzstan**

Sunrise came a little too fast. At 0700 hours Reaper Squad was already in position to scout the suspected enemy position. Hawk had already prepared a sniper perch when the team postioned themselves for observation.

"Cap, it's time for radio-contact" whispered Jester, preparing the Mk45 Satellite Uplink straped on his back.

"Roger, prepare to send the photographic package"

Jester prepared the information to relay and established a secure line to C2 (Command and Control).

"Command, Reaper Actual, come in, over"

"Come in, Reaper Actual, what's your status, over?"

"Reaper has reached objective Bravo, initiated recon of the area. Assault is scheduled eight hours from termination of contact. We encountered evidence of ethnic cleansing and... war crimes, uploading evidence package via satellite uplink, confirm reception, over"

"Roger, Actual, package received. Remember your Rules of Engagement, no contact unless hostiles confirmed"

"Roger, Command, next radio-contact is scheduled for 24 hours as of now. Actual out"

Night fell.

Reaper Squad was rested, fed and alert by 1900 hours. They had determined the perimeter of the now-confirmed-to-be encampment and had already laid out the battle plan.

"Bravo Team, confirm your position, over."

"Bravo confirms position by the western flank. Say the word and we are Oscar Mike"

"Hawk, are you in position?

"Overwatch is up, Cap. I see six sentries up, at least four more out of line of fire. There's acitvity in the eastern-most structure, personel arriving and leaving at constant intervals."

"Roger. Alpha will prioritize Buildings 1, 2 and 3. Bravo, concentrate on the barracks and Building 4. Hawk, engage any infantry and heavy weapons that fire at us"

"Roger, Boss"

Viper crawled closer to the edge of the enemy perimeter, managing to pick up some snippets of conversation in Russian, but there was another language (or perhaps a dialect?) that eluded his understanding. He brushed off the thought aside, concentrating on the task at hand.

"On my mark"

Viper crawled closer, penetrating the outer perimeter of the camp. He focused on the lonely sentry by a sandbag cover. The guard was obviously tired, waiting for shift change to catch some sleep and rest, and thus had a lack of alertness that made him the easiest target of the security detail. Alpha team (Viper and Whopper) crowled to their positions, Viper by the lonely guard and Whopper ready to dash to the first objective. Viper unholstered his sidearm, an M45 MEU(SOC) Pistol, a gift from his father's days back at Marine Force Recon. The suppressed firearm fitted perfectly in his one-handed-grip, allowing him to easily set the Ghost Rings sights on the target's head. Viper pulled the trigger and a single round was ejected from the handgun with a muffled crack. The projectile pierced the target's skull, scoring an instant kill. Viper grabbed the falling corpse and pulled it above the sandbags, hidding it from plain sight. Three more suppressed shots rang, barely audible, and three more corpses hit the ground.

"Злоумышленники! За Арктике! "

Automatic weapons began to clatter, and then Jonesy added his own to the mix, his 240B firing short bursts against the enemy soldiers. Bravo team (Ace and Jester) moved toward the barracks under the cover of Jonesy's fire. Ace broke the window on one of the barracks while Jester pulled a pin on a frag grenade. As he hurls the explosive inside the buiding, they both kneel to avoid the blunt of the impending blast. The small methalic sphere explodes after mere 3 secons, projecting shrapnel on the inside of the structure, the destructive force amplified by the close quarters.

Meanwhile, Viper and Whopper set a breaching frame on the wall of Building 1. Hawk covered them by harrasing and eliminating anyone fool enough to expose himself. The frame is detonated, carving a hole in the wall wide and large enough for both of them to go through. As a precaution, Viper tosses a 9-Bang grenade through the opening, which explodes shortly after in one deafening blast and eight others slightly less powerful. The blasts blind and drive deaf everyone inside, and Whopper advances with his MP7 up and ready, Viper following close behind with his sidearm. Whopper spots two targets on his right, recovering from the blast and intent on engaging. He pulls the trigger on his weapon and fires in short bursts, the small but deadly 4.6x30mm rounds defeating their body armor easily. Viper engages another target by his left, pumping two rounds to the torax (which the body armor succesfully stops) and a lethal headshot. The duo then exit the building, now covering Jonesy as he repositions to engage the remaining infantry that was now holed up on the opposite side of the squad's assault.

"We have 'em pinned, Bravo, move and flank from their right. Everyone else, suppressive fire!" Viper ordered through the radio microphone. Ace and Jester moved through cover, attempting a flanking maneuver on the enemy combtants. AK fire peppered their path, but they made it unscathed, after which they rained hot depleated-uranium ammunition on their opposition. Bodies fell to the ground, enemy fire pettering out until no shots ever went off.

"Hold your positions, fire three rounds to anything that looks suspiscious." Fifteen rounds clattered on the spot, but no response dared defy them, and Reaper squad new right then that they had succeeded. Viper scanned the bullet-ridden barracks, searching for stragglers, but found nothing but debris and sent casings on the floor.

"Gimme a SITREP, over"

"Clear, Cap"

"All clear over here, Boss"

"Clear"

"Clear too, Cap"

"We are in the clear, Cap"

"Roger, Alpha and Bravo are to search for intel. Anything potentially useful. Jonesy, you are on perimeter watch, Hawk, hold your position until I say otherwise"

"WILCO"

Viper and Whopper broke off from Ace and Jester, each team searchng the indicated buildings for information. They would find more than they bargained for...


	6. The Best Defense

**Best Defense...**

**Kyrghizstan, Near Talas**

"Well, well, well, looks like we hit the jackpot here!"

"Roger that. Orders, Boss?"

Viper looked around the document-filled room. The walls were covered in pin-laden topographic maps, laptops rested on aluminium tables and comm equipment was live, receiving transmissions and broadcasting them to the team via their speakers.

"Run a complete survey, search for any and everything useful"

"Roger. You heard the boss, fan out!"

The team spreaded all over the room, skimming the files strewn around, while Viper tried to make sense of the topographic charts. At first he couldn't find a real connection, but when he cross-referenced with the mental map of the area he had everything began clicking in place.

"Son of a bitch..."

"Hey, cap, look at this", Whopper passed him a manila folder, containing mutiple paper sheets. Viper opened and it and the picture got even clearer.

"Heads up, we got something over here" he stated, still trying to identify the rest of the information, "we've got enemy positions, as well as weapons caches and vehicle garages."

"Well, that makes sense. Look here, weapon requisition forms. Fifty bucks say those guns are going to some of those places"

"That means this is a lot bigger than a six-men job. We need to relay this intel to Command"

"On it, Cap" Jester replied, preparing the Satellite Comm for a second transmission, "alright, sir, it's up and running"

"Scan those documents and snap some shots of those topo charts to relay, ASAP!"

The team sprang into action, using hand-held document scanners to make an electronic copy of the documents and digital cameras to photograph the enemy positions.

"Command, Reaper Actual, come in, over!"

"Reaper Actual, Command, your orders where to maintain radio silence until next contact at 1900 hours, over"

"Situation has changed, Command. Enemy Intel suggests enemy positions all over the valley. Infantry encampments, supply depots, weapons caches... Neutralization of these assets should be paramount, please advice, over."

"Reaper, this is Big Dog" _Robertson?, _"Listen carefully, the top brass is talking about military intervention on Kyrghizstan. The evidence you sent state-side was enough to convince them to act on the basis of war-crimes and are already pointing the finger at the Russians. Putin is still denying politey, but this can turn ugly very quickly, over"

"Errr, Sir, with all due respect, that's an awful idea. If this Intel is accurate, and we believe it is, our whole AO is hot, any big-scale insertion will be Shahi-Kot all over again."

"I'm aware of it, son, and I'm trying to stall as much as I can, but I need something to fend off the politicans back at DC."

"Sir, these guys are not just Russians!"

"Repeat, Actual?"

"These forces are NOT Russian-only, sir! We suspect they are either a rogue outfit or a private military, over"

"Goddammit! Can you confirm, Actual? Do you have proof that this is not a Russian-sanctioned action, over?"

"We are sending a package through the satellite uplink, photographic evidence of their uniforms and gear, all un-regulated and western-leaning. Attached are also documents of enemy positions and weapon requisition forms. They are bearing the BlackDagger Corp. logo."

"BlackDagger? Why am I not surprised..."

"Sir?"

"BlackDagger is not only the current DoD contractor for the new XM23 Main Battle Tank, it's also been growing on the Private Military Contractor sector. But this doesn't make any sense, why would they be doing any of this?"

"There's more to this story, sir, this could be a false-flag or a play to boost sales of the MBT. Whatever direction the knife twists, a direct intervention with infantry will destroy any evidence of what's happening here. The brass wants boots on the ground but they are not actually LISTENING to the guys on the ground."

"I know, Actual, I'll see what I can do with the Intel you are sending, but don't hold your breath. In the meantime, you go from Observation to Search and Destroy. You'll receive a resupply via a MC-130J. Careful with it, it's gonna be packed with plastique mainly and suppressed SMGs for the team. We have OGA field operatives on the ground, they'll support you with resupplies. And son... thread carefully on this one, you are sitting on a powder keg."

"Roger that, sir. What about the encampment? As soon as they come back and they find this place they'll know it was us"

"Torch it, Captain, leave no trace of your actions, make it look like it was rebels or a peasant guerrilla, figure it out, but erase your name from it"

"Roger, Big Dog Next contact at 1900 hours. Actual out"

Viper handed the microphone back to Jester and gave rapid-fire orders:

"Whopper, get some gas or anything flamable, Ace, you are on ammunition detail, collect 5.56 NATO for us and bring anything else here, we are torching it"

"Roger, Boss"

"On it, Cap!"

"Sir! Enemy contact! A platoon-sized unit is heading this way. ETA: 3 mikes, give or take. Permision to engage?" Hawk whispered on his microphone, while setting his sights in the advancing group.

"Negative, hold your fire. Let them get closer. Engage at the 1 mike mark. Confirm."

"WILCO, Cap"

Viper moved, sprinting to the exit, where he caught up with Whopper, who was hefting two olive-drab fuel cans on his big arms. The team leader relieved him of one and quickly went back inside, using his K-Bar USMC knife, another gift from his father, to pierce the ammo can from the side, douzing the tables with the flamable chemical, while Whopper ripped away the charts from the walls and drenched them.

"Sir, they've stopped, they are assessing the situation and our position, advice!"

"Where are they?"

"Outer perimeter, they can attack at a moment's notice. Sir, advice!"

"Engage, light the bastards! Jonesy, back Hawk up, suppresive fire!"

"On my way, sir!"

Viper tossed the now-empty can aside, hefting his HK 416.

"Finish here, help Jester with the ammo. Radio when it's done"

"WILCO!"

The team leader sprinted back toward the outside perimeter, setting on a position by Jonesy's right, over-lapping his firing zone with that of Jonesy's to cover his 11 o'clock, and having him cover his 1 o`clock, at the same time stablishing a solid killzone, making it hard for the enemy to advance without risking getting killed. He took cover behind the thick tree he was leaning against, and used his binoculars to observe and try to identify enemy combatants.

"See them, boss?", Jonesy whispered, already on his belly and his M240 supported on the bipod. Viper sontinued to scan the forward area, looking for the enemy.

"There, on our 12 and 1 o'clock. They are keeping their distance. Hawk, can you engage?"

"Affirmative, Cap, just say the word"

"Engage, I repeat, engage enemy combatants"

"Roger, engaging"

Hawk sighted through the scope of his Mk14 Mod 0 and set the crosshair on the first target's head, just below the nose, then deviated ¼ of a mil right to compensate for wind. He inhaled and exhaled heavily, oxygenating his lungs and stabilizing his aim. His finger depressed the trigger, ever so slightly, and the supressed weapon clapped, muffled by the barrel attachment but still audible. The 7.62 NATO bullet exited the threaded barrel, while the weapon's bolt cycled and the cartridge's casing was expelled from the chamber, unceremoniously plummetting to the dirt ground below. The projectile traveled, cutting the air on its path and ultimately hitting the taget, 1100 meters downrange, entering through the enemy's chest and piercing both a lung and the hearth then exiting the target's body through the lower area of the left armpit. The target was dead before he finally touched the ground.

"Снайпер! Это был нам обнуляется!"

"Сарджент, что же нам делать?"

"Перемещение вперед! Он не может взять нас всех!"

The enemy column moved forward as one, twenty-eight geared-up soldiers threatening Reaper's Squad precarious position uphill.

"Captain, they are advancing, they are 1,000 meters ahead of you, give or take"

"Roger. Jonesy, weapons free, engage the advancing enemy on sight"

"Roger, the Hog is ready!"

_This is gonna be a long-ass day._


	7. is Offense

**... is Offense**

Jonesy's M240 roared, blanketing the killzone with a hail of 7.62 NATO rounds. The enemy platoon took cover, pinned down by what seemed like a superior force. Viper joined the fray, firing his carbine in short bursts, driving the enemy into the little cover they could find. Three targets fell to the ground in the first five seconds, caught off-guard by the LMG fire. Hawk harrased the enemy positions with slightly more accurate fire, taking potshots at whomever was unwise enough to try and take a peek.

"Keep up the fire, I'll try to flank them. Hawk, cover me!" Viper radioed as he inserted a fresh magazine into his weapon.

"Roger, Boss"

Viper moved in a crouch, using the fallen logs of decayed trees to stay out of the enemy's sight. He could hear Jonesy reloading his weapon while Hawk continued to fire single shots at their foes. Keeping himself on the edge of what he believed was the perimeter of the enemy formation, he steadily advanced, still on a low crouch, but keeping an eye on the enemy formation. The platoon had advanced, under the cover of their own fire, and had quickly positioned themselves at almost 700mts forward of Jonesy's firing position. Viper himself had moved little more than 300mts forward, still undetected. He resisted the urge to lob a grenade towards the opposition. At this extreme distance it would only give away his position and serve as a fireworks show. Instead, he moved forward a few more paces and resumed his firing, trying his best to drive some of their attention _away_ from his Gunner.

The enemy fire was now divided, but Reaper Squad was still outmanned and outgunned.

"Cap, it's done!"

"Roger that. Cover Jonesy's retreat when I'm clear of the enemy"

At this, Jonesy's fire picked up on intensity, becoming a steady stream of fire rather than the controlled bursts he was used to. However, it sent the enemy straight to cover, and that was all the window Viper needed to retreat back to the former enemy camp. The entire squad arrived just behind him, Hawk included, while the enemy platoon kept on firing on their previous positions, not realizing that such positions had already been vacated.

"SITREP"

"The enemy CP is ready to be torched, cap"

"Understood. Anyone hit?" Viper asked, rapidly checking himself for signs of blood.

The team gave themsleves a quick check, everyone denying being wounded. Viper ordered them to move toward their preset exfil route, while he swiftly pulled a White Phosphorus grenade from his pack. He pulled the pin and tossed the grenade through one of the building's windows. The incendiary device went off, disperssing the flamable contents all over the structure's floor and igniting the gas, followed closely by the ammunition pilled inside. Viper was the last member to leave the area, just as the surviving enemies began to arrive. The fire and the heavy smoke, signature of WP, covered the team's exfiltration, while the enemy tried to desperately put out the fire, to no avail.

After three hours of Scape and Evasion maneuvers, the team reached their RV point, stopping to check their gear and ammunition.

"Gimme an ammo count!" Viper ordered, counting his remaining magazines and grenades as the team did the same.

"Ok, listen up. We've got a new set of orders. We are to link-up with OGA ground assets to receive new orders and resupply. An MC-130 will be flying a special run for us, so we have to move fast. Ace, take point, Jonesy, cover our six. Move it, gents"

**CIA communications outpost**

**Agent Nathan Taylor, Codename "Rapier"**

**Kyrgyzstan**

Codename Rapier sat at the table, powering up his Agency-issue laptop and logging into it. The gadget automatically connected to the Agency's Secure Communication Service, flashing a notifcation at him, indicating a received secure message. Wasting no time, Rapier opened and read it.

From: Classified

To: CODENAME Rapier

Classified EYES ONLY

Through this media you are hereby directed to support the assets of Operation Red Typhoon. Your new set of orders is attached to this message and a list of equpment to bring is also included. Personal contact with the assets is to be kept at a minimum and any written record of their activities (maps, OPORDs, logs, etc) must be destroyed on the spot to mantain OPSEC. Any and all gear request must be aimed directly at Company's top executives.

After downloading the attached files, including maps and satellite imaging of the region, Rapier erased the message and its contents, effectively destroying evidence of its existance. He then quickly grabbed a pack loaded with combat and survival gear. A beaten down 4x4 was waiting for him outside, which he turned on and steered towards the Kyrgyzs' wilderness. The dirt roads led him through the valley, and he followed them for about three hours before stopping the vehicle and turning off the engine. He waited in silence, looking for signs of a tail, but after 20 minutes or so of waiting it was clear that he was on his own.

"Either the enemy is too stupid or I'm too good" he muttered to himself, opening the door and stepping outside. He unholstered his Beretta Px4 Storm and chambered a round, repositioning the silenced pistol on his leg-holster and opening the pack on the trunk. He strapped the light Kevlat vest he had packed, arranging pockets to allow access to the magazines with a quick cross-chest pull. The loghtweight armor wouldn't do him any good against anything bigger than .45ACP, but it was more comfortable than a fully outfitted plate-carrier. He then set off, walking into the mildly-thick forest, making his way to the nearby clearing where he would meet Reaper Squad. After a quick hike up a low slope he found himself on the designated spot, with an hour of time to kill. He went prone, keeping himself out of the clearing in the outer edge of the patch, listening to any indication of enemy presence. The air was thick with the sound of insects, out in the night to feed, and the idle wait was enough so that he began formulating theories about the current sitution and how it would develop, taking into mind different variables. But nearing the mark of the 40 minutes, he heard faint footsteps aproaching his hidding place, bringing him back to the present. He tightened his grip on the Cx4 Carbine he had brought along, sighting through the night scope until he recognized the faint outline of a human body, crouched on its knee. Rapier took the short-wave radio on one of his vest's pockets and powered it up, setting it on the required frecuency.

"Reaper, this is Rapier, over" he said in a whisper, "come in, over".

He sighted through the scope again and watched as the figure shifted and broguht something to its face.

"Rapier, this is Reaper. We've arrived at the RV point, where are you, over?"

"I'm at your 10 o' clock, Captain. I've got you on nightvision, I'm coming to you, do not fire on me. Acknowledge."

"WILCO"

Rapier got on his feet and cautiously neared the team, keeping his weapon on the low-ready and scanning his surroundings. Viper kept an eye on the perimeter, turning his attention to the new arrival when he reached his side and lowered himself to Viper's height.

"Captain" Rapier acknowledged, presenting his hand to the Operator, who firmly shook it.

"Agent. Are we on time for the drop?"

"Yes Captain, the MC-130 should be here any time now."

As he finished the sentence, the group heard the unmistakeable roar of turboprop engines. A darker-than-the-night shadow passed overhead, not slowing a bit, and the white canopy of a parachute was visible, dragged by a crate. The package landed with a loud thud, the parachute collapsing on the ground. The group moved toward it, Ace, Whopper, Hawk and Jonesy carrying the (heavy) crate, while Viper, Jester and Rapier covered them on their way to the Agent's 4x4.

"Here, change quickly, people. We cannot afford to go through the country with you wearing camo" Rapier said, handing Jester and Viper small packs with civilian clothes. He signaled other similar packs for the rest of the team, and everyone changed on the spot, Rapier himself unstrapping his vest and tossing it on the latter, they were on the road, Viper and Rapier in front and the team crampped on the back, laying low as to not be seen from the outside.

**I know, it took me long enough. I try to write soon enough but I have to double check with facts (and even then, there are some things that I exagerate a bit for the sake of storytelling) I'll try to update sooner. Don't forget to review, see ya next update.**


	8. Spook Game

Viper scanned the shantytown's streets, keeping an eye out for people trying to conceal weapons or shooters on the roofs. But so far the people seemed to go around their business, not paying attention to them nor casting glances. It almost seemed like they were ignoring them.

"They are refugees from nearby villages. These are the few who were able to scape the rounding up and executions" Rapier explained, keeping his eyes forward to avoid running over anyone by accident.

"Saw some of that on the way to our first target. Why would a PMC involve themselves in something as politically unsound as ethnic cleansing?" Viper mulled, still running visual checks on the civilians on the edge of the street. Most of the people where moving, undoubtedly heading to the border, trying to get as far away from the coming storm. Some others just remained in their places, either camping from the journey or deciding to temporarily settle or to live there for the remainder of the conflict. The grim atmosphere that emanated from the scene made Viper's stomach flip, usually a bad sign.

"BD's forces are lead by a local nut job. They gave him full control, but failed to realize how far he would take things. I' m willing to bet there are a lot of suits banging their heads together to try and fix the issue. At the same time, a good number of AQ-related and Yihaidist groups are sprawling all over the place, fighting over the remnats of the bulldozed villages. Everyone wants to be the king of Kyrgyzs dust" Rapier stated, taking a deserted sidestreet. The 4x4 now took up speed, unhindered by the fleeing refugees. The vehicle stopped in front of a non-descript mortar house, trademark of the CIA. The seven men quickly disembarked and were ushered inside the house by the agent.

The inside of the structure wasn't impressive at any rate, with bare walls and little in the way of furniture.

"Cozy" Hawk remarked, one of his rare attempts at humor. The team claimed on of the rooms for their equipment and weapons, while Rapier waited for them on the small living room. The couches where stiff and uncomfortable, but they were a lot more than what the operators were used to in the field. Rapier gave each of them a folder, containing a map and OPORDs for their next mission.

"Alright, gentlemen, here's the situation. In the last 24 hours the crisis scalated quickly, with heavily-armed militias engaging in open combat against the Kyrgyzs army. We've also seen a rise of anti-NATO sentiment in the political arena, since the Comunist Party of Kyrgyzstan gained another nine seats on the parliament. The good news is that only six of those ten are spreading the negative propaganda against NATO, the other four are either neutral or pro-NATO, but they are not very popular with the citizens of Russian ascendence, as you can imagine. FSB's handing of passports is a non-issue in this case, they are trying to play nice with us, an Islamist regime near of their influence zone would certainly spread the independentist fire on Chechnya...

"Wait a sec, Mr. Spook", Whopper interrupted the agent, "the Russian population of the country is supporting the enemies of the Kremlin? That's not very patriotic of theirs."

"It's not as simple as that. The information we are getting is quite contradicting, there are reports of pro-Russian militants fighting against both Islamists and government loyalists. If the rumors are true we are caught between the fire of three sides fighting for control. The Kyrgyzs troops are not aware of our involvement and will shoot us on sight, the Islamists are long time haters of us and the pro-Russians don't want anything to do with us. We are in a tight spot and we can't afford to fail in our task. Your next assignment will help shed some light on this affair and set the record clear about sides and intentions. The objective is to extract a CIA asset, CODENAME Golddigger. This asset is a plant, placed on the higher ranks of the Communist Party. Its last transmission stated that the Party had information about the leaders of the rebel factions and their main suppliers. Langley made the extraction mission a priority. If this information is real, we'll finally have a clear image of the crisis, and, as a bonus, we can cut their resources short and force them into a cease-fire."

"How are we doing this?" Viper asked, already beginning to memorize the map and important landmarks.

"The target is presently at the nearby settlement of Toktogul, staying at the _Guest House Kaghan _Hotel. Activity in the town has picked up, and the asset reported that the pro-Russian militias have promised protection to the town's people in the face of a possible Islamist offensive. This means that we have to provide you with a cover to explain your presence. Also, only two of you can go in this assignment. Your present number is very hard to explain, and we need this to be as hush-hush as possible. The rest of us will prepare the exfiltration via river, there should be a Zodiac in the drop we recovered and the out-board motor will be at the RV point, courtesy of another field agent. Since this is your team I'll let you pick the players on this round"

Viper mulled over the operation and weighed the abilities of his team to accomodate to the requirements of the mission. Jonesy and Hawk were out of it; if push came to shove Jonesy's MG would be necessary for covering fire at the extraction, and Hawk would serve as overwatch. More to the point, his second man in this assignment needed to have CQC and hand-to-hand combat experience and training. Whopper was the natural choice for that task.

"Whopper, you are coming with me to Toktogul. The rest of you will help Rapier prepare and defend the RV if needed be. You'll be under his direct command, his orders only superseeded by mine. Questions?" The team leader looked at the men in front of him. The RV team members bore sligthly disappointed looks on their faces, but Viper was one hundred percent sure they would obey the orders they had been given.

"It's settled then. Whopper, come with me, we'll talk details. The rest of you, go with Rapier to organize the exfil."

The team broke into two groups, each of them going through their part of the operation and planning for contingencies.

* * *

><p>Viper made a last security check before going to bed. He checked padlocks, windows and doors to make sure they were closed. When he made sure everything was locked tight he began heading for his sleeping place, only to be stopped by an acrid smell that billowed from the kitchen. He poked his head around and found Rapier burning something by the sink. The CIA agent noticed him and felt compelled to explain:<p>

"I'm burning the target folders, so there's no physical evidence of this operation"

Viper understood pretty well: in the event of a breaking-in by oposing forces, they wouldn't have to worry about stray documents incriminating US Special Forces and Intelligence Agencies. He gave the agent a curt nod and then left to get sleep. Twenty minutes later, the safehouse was dark and silent.


	9. Gold-digger

The 4x4 raced along the road. Its two occupants sat in silence scanning the countryside outside their transportation. Viper rode on the passenger seat, while Whopper drove the car, keeping an eye on the speed lest they get pulled over by the government forces, or worse, by any of the militias. It wasn't only the fact that their credentials wouldn't stand close scrutiny, it was also going to be very hard for them to explain why they were carrying concealed Sig Sauer P229 pistols on inside-waistband holsters and two fully-loaded spare magazines inside their tactical shirts. Jackets completed the outfit, also serving their primary function: keep the slightly chilly air at bay.

"Almost there boss" Whopper casually said, breaking the stale silence in the vehicle.

"Roger. Keep an eye open for patrols, we don't want this mission to go tits up before it even begins"

"Amen to that"

While Whopper kept driving toward the target village Viper checked the high-end photographic equipment they carried, where they were smuggling two short silencers and small C4 blocks, unsuitable for demolitions but handy for breaching charges. That was all the equipment they could bring for the mission, and Viper was not satisfied with it. Morning satellite recon indicated that enemy armor had moved inside the town along with a company-sized infantry force. Without even their primary weapons they could not hope to directly attack the enemy, so the operation had to remain covert and low-profile from beginning to end.

The road led them to Toktogul, an urban-looking village that had turned into a militia garrison and stronghold practically overnight. An improvised checkpoint was rigged on the main road, manned by six to ten militants, one of them behind the trigger of a 12.7x108mm DShK heavy machinegun that swiveled to follow their path until they stopped at the improvised gate.

"Who you are?" one of the militant asked in heavily accented and broken English. Both men instantly realized they had to be careful with their words, lest they incite a violent response due to the communication breach.

"We reporters. We take photos, video… err… television" Viper slowly answered, trying to get his point across.

"Television?"

"Yes, yes… err… телевидение! CNN! You understand?"

"Yes, yes! CNN! You get pass?"

"Yes, here" Viper handed over both of their fake IDs to the guard. The militant made a show of checking the items as if he knew what they were. Finally he handed them back to them and ordered the gate open. Whopper drove the car in and the machinegun returned to scouting the horizon. The streets were incredibly crowded, and not exactly by refugees. It seemed like the village didn't mind the militia presence at all, except for a couple of nasty looks here and there. That didn't mean they were safe among the civilians, so they stuck to their covers until they arrived to the hotel.

* * *

><p>Daniel Sanderson, CODENAME Hyena, checked the straps of his combat plate carrier. The rest of the team finished packing their gear, and the team leader, CODENAME Ghoul, re-checked Hyena's work. He patted him in the shoulder, confirming his readiness. The team moved to the tarmac without a word, where an MH6 Little Bird helicopter, completely painted black, waited for them. The five men strapped themselves to the composite benches, as the engines began roaring louder. The nimble aircraft then began ascending and moving, its passengers suddenly hit by heavy winds. Inside the cockpit, pilots of the 160th Special Operations Air Regiment expertly manned the aircraft's control, keeping the vehicle below the radar's ceiling to avoid being logged into any aviation records. It quickly crossed the border to Kyrgyzstan, flying at nape-of-the-Earth altitude. The team was being jostled around by the constant maneuvering through the wadis, and Sanderson thought he was about to throw up the light breakfast he had just eaten. The helicopter flew in the same overall direction for more than two hours until it hovered at a grassed clearing. The men jumped off the small distance to the ground and quickly dispersed into a covering formation. CODENAME Snape, the team's communication asset, powered up the satellite communication equipment.<p>

"Sir, Garuda Squad is on the ground. We have them on the SATCOM"

"Garuda Actual, this is Big Dog. Confirm green status"

"_Big Dog, Garuda confirms all green at insertion. Moving to Waypoint Alpha._"

* * *

><p>"<em>Understood Garuda. We are coordinating your operation with the first inserted tactical team. Do not engage before they achieve their objective, or their objective could be compromised. Confirm<em>"

"Garuda confirms, sir. We are Oscar Mike, out."

The team headed into the wilderness, leaving no trail of their insertion behind.

* * *

><p>Viper checked his burner phone. A terse and short text message displayed on the screen:<p>

_Police Station, two blocks north. 2000 hours._

He erased the message and powered the phone down, then consulting his wrist watch to make sure he would be on time. The time would be a problem, since the militia had instituted a curfew at 1900 hours, and had more than shown their determination to shoot or imprison anyone they caught after those hours. He paid the tab and raised from his chair. He headed outside and used the camera to snap pictures of the enemy position and patrols on the way to that night's target. He played his cover's role, 'interviewing' some of the more friendly-looking patrols and pretending to be an American liberal-progressive news reporter trying to garner support for their cause. He had actually snorted when he came up with that idea, but there wasn't really much he could do if he had told them he was from Fox news and he wanted the government to bomb the crap out of them. When he reached the location he could see why the contact had chosen it: tight alleys with no apparent illumination sources for the night, the only guards where concentrated in the front gate, and the second floor balconies where accessible by the single-floor neighboring the Station. _Spooks sure don't disappoint… most of the time at least._ He completed his round by snapping a few shots of the place and scouting a safe route through the alleys. He later returned to the hotel and waited for time to bleed out before going to the meeting.

* * *

><p>At 2000 hours Viper was already waiting at the south-side alley of the Station, crouched behind a tin dumpster, holding his silenced Sig in a two-handed, ready-low grip. He waited for almost half an hour before realizing that there was a human figure entering the alley. The subject didn't appear to be aware of Viper's whereabouts, turning its back on him, as if preparing to wait for his arrival. Viper waited two full seconds before drawing a short spring-assisted generic switch-blade, holstering his silenced pistol with his free hand. He silently crab-stepped to get closer to the subject, blade in his hand and pointed outwards. When he reached the silhouette he swiftly silenced any possible yelp or call for help by putting his hand on its mouth. The figure tensed immediately, trying to fight him back.<p>

He was now certain of one thing: the stranger was a woman.

He moved back into the alley, keeping his grip on her, both figures melting back into the shadows. He eased his grip on the blade, but kept his hand on her mouth.

"Sssh, it's ok. Я не собираюсь делать тебе больно. Ты говоришь по-английски?" The figure nodded positive, "Good. I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, I need you to not scream, alright? As soon as I do, answer me: Red Star."

"Yellow Hammer" a terse and sweet voice answered back, giving the answer to the challenge handed over to Viper by CODENAME Rapier. He tried to calculate her age, assuming her to be in her mid-to-late 20s. _She could be a child, dammit! What's she doing around these animals?_

"_You_ are Gold-digger?"

"Yes. Are you Viper?" she asked, her voice slightly jagged by the residual fear in her mind.

"Yes. My contact said that you had important information?"

"I do, but I made a mistake. I hid it inside the Station's file cabinets. I figured I could sneak in and take the files. But for some reason my biometric info has been erased from the archives and I cannot go into the room." Viper closed his eyes and palmed his forehead. _Thank you, Murphy._

"Ok" he said, looking to the single-story house next door and then to its roof. The gap between the rooftop and the Station's balcony was not severe, so it could be covered by someone inexpert, "you think you can follow me up to that rooftop? I'll need you to guide me inside the station"

"But… how are you going to get inside the room? It has a secure door and…"

"C4. Now, if anything happens and this doesn't fly, lady, you are going to be on my bad side, and you _don't want_ to be there. Do I make myself clear?"

The girl rapidly nodded, transmitting Viper what he could clearly see: she was scared. _This is getting uglier by the second._


	10. The Right Side

Viper's fingers ached slightly, but with one more squat he propped himself up the balcony, followed by the struggling girl. He helped her up, and then opened the glass pane slowly.

"This is a joke, right? Who the hell leaves a blast-proof glass pane unlocked? This guys are a joke" Viper whispered to her.

"This exact precinct isn't full of the best and brightest, that's why I chose it. That's also why I was shocked to learn that my biometrics were erased. There's something wrong going on, are you sure you can handle it?" the girl asked, a slight tone of concern in her voice.

"We'll see about that, but priority is getting those files out. Where are they?"

"In the archives. That room is… three doors to the right from that door" she points to the only door in the room they are.

Viper, still in a crouch, closed in on the door, cracking it open just slightly and stealing a peak outside. The hallway looked clear, but it was brightly lit, and he doubted he could cross the gap between his actual position and his target without risking being seen by any patrolling guard. If he was caught… he was on his own. He had to make a decision, or, more to the point, do what the mission expected of him. He finished opening up the door, and made his way down to the archives, crouching low and side-ways as stealthily as possible. The girl trailed behind him, not very far. The couple made it across, until they were stopped by a closed door. The metallic-looking barrier was secured by a retinal scanner, and Viper was one-hundred percent sure that none of them were cleared for it. Instead of even trying, he fished inside his sling pack for something.

"I told you, it's closed! We won't be able to open this door in time!"

"We aren't opening it" Viper remarked, finally finding a rectangle-shaped explosive charge. He stripped the cover of the glue patch and set the block in the middle-point of the door's surface "When we are inside you have less than ten seconds to find the file. After that, we are leaving, file or no file. Understood?"

"Yes! Just hurry up"

The Special Operator withdrew a small distance from the explosive charge and struck the detonator. A deafening boom was heard, amplified by the cramped space, and the door blew inward into pieces. As if on cue, alarms began blearing inside the building. Viper brandished his silenced P229, sweeping the room, and then indicated her to move inside. The girl headed for the file cabinets and began opening them, trying hard to remember the exact place where she had put the vital information. While she did this, Russian shouting began to be heard from the depths of the hallway, increasing in volume by every second.

"Five seconds!" Viper called, and made a quick decision. He blind-fired through the door-frame in the general direction of the shouting, his firing muffle by the tubular silencer attached to the barrel of his pistol. Couple with subsonic ammunition, it made his shots nearly silent, the report of the bullets striking the hard, wooden wall down the hall just slightly louder.

"I've got it!" he heard from her, and it was all he needed to know. He fished into the pack again, and this time he produced a flashbang grenade from inside it. He pulled the pin, let the safety lever fly off free, and lobbed the grenade in the same direction he had been firing just a moment ago.

"граната!" was heard, before a thunder and a flash drowned out the screams of reaction from the men assaulted by the explosion. Viper could swear he had heard windows shatter, though he was not surprised by it at all. A second block of C4 ensured them a safe escape from the precinct, and by the time the guards had made it to the archives the two intruders where already on the street, scurrying away to try and make it to the extraction point, the girl a lot more enthusiastic about finally making it out of there and away from evil armed men.

* * *

><p>"I think we lost them! We can slow down!"<p>

"No, they are just regrouping. If we slow down now we increase the chances of them finding us. We need to keep moving" he scanned the street, looking around for a vehicle that he could borrow. He needed something that didn't raise any eyebrows, but fast enough to put distance between himself and a group of murderous militias.

"How do you know that?" It was immediately obvious to Viper that the girl was inexperienced in this, it was even probably the first time she had done anything remotely looking like this. _What did I get myself into? More to the point, what did the CIA got him into?_

He finally found what he was looking for: a moderately beat-up, non-descript sedan, didn't even have a company branding. It was even possible for it to not have any kind of anti-theft measures, which he confirmed when he smashed the driver-side window with his elbow and no alarm rang. After clearing the remaining glass, Viper began hot-wiring the car, getting it to run in a few seconds.

"Get in! We need to go, now!"

The girl was shocked slightly by the iciness in his voice, but obeyed him anyway and got in the passenger's seat. Viper changed gears, and drove the car away, sticking to the speed limits. Last thing they needed was to be pulled over for a traffic violation. And that was just half of the way to safety.

* * *

><p>"Is the Zodiac ready?" Rapier asked from his prone position. The squad was on a semi-circle formation, covering the extraction point and equipment from the only easily-accessible entry point to their position.<p>

"Up and ready, boss. A soon as the Captain sends the word we'll be ready to leave" Ace whispered, his eyes still scanning the dirt path that lead to the paved road to town. It didn't escape nobody's attention that their extraction was in a less-than-ideal place, but time was of the essence and they had chosen speed over safety. They just had to secure the point as best as they could. Hard to argue against automatic weapons and pre-scouted cover positions, however.

"Good. I just received word from your man Whopper. He's en route here, and your Squad Leader won't be far behind him. They are breaking the curfew, so expect a hot extract"

"Roger, we are ready"

* * *

><p>'We have a problem' are four words that no one wanted to hear when they were on the run, and it was no different this time.<p>

"What do you mean a problem? You said we had lost them!" the girl (Ylena, according to her) exclaimed, looking around franticly.

"No, you said that. We are being tailed, one black SUV, two hundred meters behind us. They are ridding without lights to conceal themselves but their driver is kind of an idiot, he's constantly speeding and braking. Rookie mistake" Viper answered, looking at his rear-view mirrors. Against his better instincts, he pulled the burner phone from inside his jacket and dialed Rapier.

"_Rapier"_

"We don't have much time. They are probably listening in on this call, I have company one SUV, probably four guys inside. More vehicles could be on the way"

"_Roger, we are loaded for bear"_

* * *

><p>Rapier hung the phone and rapid-fired new instructions to the team.<p>

"Ace, prepare that explosive barrier, Viper is inbound and he's got company. Everyone else, stay frosty and ready to engage" A pair of headlights announced the arrival of the only missing member of the team, who quickly dismounted the vehicle after he drove it out of sight.

"What's going on? Where is the Cap?" Whopper asked, shouldering an FN P90 PDW.

"He's on his way, and he's bringing heat in, take your position in the formation, we'll be covering his arrival"

* * *

><p>"Okay, listen, we are near the extraction point. As soon as the car stops I want you to get out and head for the water. <em>Do not <em>run towards the light flashes, avoid them at all costs or you'll get killed, understood?"

"What?!"

"_Do you understand_?!"

"Yes!"

"Good, get ready"

Viper accelerated the sedan well beyond the average speed, shadowed by the SUV, who now had stopped pretending to be stealthy and began gaining on them. Viper tried to put distance between them, but his vehicle was at disadvantage in comparison. His only real advantage at this point was that he knew where to go and their pursuers didn't. But that advantage was sure to evaporate by every minute they kept going on the road.

* * *

><p>"I see them, get ready to cover them! Hawk, put a slug through the engine block of their tail!"<p>

"Roger"

A loud crack, characteristic of a .50 caliber detonation, rang in the darkness, accompanied by a momentary flash of light. The heavy bullet struck the SUV's front, detonating into a jet of metallic shrapnel that disabled the engine and stopped the vehicle dead on its tracks.

"SUV disabled. Cap's vehicle is incoming, check your fire"

"Roger. Squad, check your fire, friendlies in the line of fire"

The car stopped abruptly, the passenger's seat facing the waterway. Ylena came out and immediately bolted towards what looked to her like an inflatable raft. She was about to get in when she was stopped and brought to the ground by a shadow.

"Get down!" was all she heard before hell broke loose.

A volley of fire, aimed at the advancing enemies who had decided to dismount from the SUV, erupted from the formation. The semi-automatic fire of each member of the team, accurately delivered, cut down two of the advancing figures before they could react. The surviving men dropped to the side of the road, trying to return fire but failing miserably. Using the blanket of fire as cover, Viper headed for the Zodiac, picking up Ylena where she had been tackled to the ground by Jester.

"Come on, get on the boat. Reaper, fall back to the Zodiac, we are out of here. Hawk, cover the team's retreat, and then haul ass, over"

"Roger. I see multiple vehicles incoming, technicals and troop transports"

"Engage the heavy guns, Rapier and I will keep the foot-mobiles pinned for the retreat"

"Roger, boss"

Ylena could only watch as the Team Leader grabbed his HK416 and headed for the frontline, not before telling her to stay on the boat and ordering Jester to keep an eye on her. The muffled crack of the carbine joined the cacophony of Reaper team's weapons, which gradually faded in intensity as the team fell back to the Zodiac one by one. Hawk was one of the last in the firing line, retreating and then covering the last two men remaining on the front. As they mounted on the inflatable boat the CIA operative revved up the outboard motor and then accelerated, slowly building up speed until the only evidence of their presence in the area was a now-burning sedan, two dead corporate mercenaries, and a disgusted militia. Ylena couldn't help but feel relieved. She had chosen sides wisely.

**I haven't forgotten about this story, is just the most difficult one to write, because I normally back-check everyhtin with real facts, but I also have to exagerate things a bit for the sake of storytelling, so you'll have to bear with me. Please, remember to leave feedback in the 'Reviews' section, and I'll see ya next update.**


	11. Flaming Convoy

"Okay, listen up, people. If the intel Ylena gave us is right, and we have plenty of reasons to believe it is, the situation is as follows. BlackDagger International, the world-famous security company and one of the largest PMCs to date, bank-rolled the Communist Party to organize a militia. Intercepted e-mails confirm transactions between Dagger's top brass and an individual hereby known as The Engineer. The purpose of this stirring of the situation is now clearly a play to increase pressure on the DoD to maintain the funding on their experimental Main Battle Tank which is slated for Congressional Reviewing the next month. Our friends at the top places have told the Agency that the project will most certainly be suspended or even canceled, and that probably made its way to Dagger's Board of Directors. If it's true, then they must have been pretty disgusted by it. Whatever the circumstances, these new anti-government militias were not only given money through international bank accounts, but were also given state-of-the-art-weaponry in limited supplies.

These inventories provide us with an insight on where to look for those weapons. They are being smuggled into neighboring countries via armed convoys. The exact same convoys that our eyes in the sky have been photographing going north. Ever since we gave the order to our operatives to be on the look-out for this equipment we've had hits on the black markets of every bad place in the world, from Pakistan to the Motherland, and all the way to Somalia and the sub-saharian Africa. Following the money-trail has given us SIGINT hits all around Asia and Europe, some of them from within drug-running organizations and others even from inside known slave-trade rings. This proves that BlackDagger is not only manipulating the political winds to its advantage but that they also have close ties with shady and illegal groups. It makes quite a case against them… for the Feds, or even the NSA. What matters to us is that we have our targets and new clues as to this Engineer's whereabouts. Our mission, at the moment, is to shut down the pipe of high-tech gear to the black market, and to do that we are gonna have to link up with Garuda Team. They are with OGA's Special Activities Division, under command of your CO, they are now in position to scout the AO and plan the ambush."

* * *

><p><em>24 hours later<em>

* * *

><p>"How are we looking, Hyena?" Ghoul whispered, slowly positioning by his side on the tall grass. The dry pasture concealed them from the passing convoys of enemy vehicles, which had stuck to their schedules even after the successful operations of Reaper Squad.<p>

"The convoy route and schedules appear to be unaltered. Next one is scheduled to be here in two hours, give or take. We can take down the patrols and pose as one to cover our explosive charge. We turn the first vehicles into make-shift barricades, Reaper maneuvers to their back, lays down suppressing fire while we keep the advantage of higher ground to pick-off the stragglers. Reaper is supposed to have a demo expert with them, so he'll rig the vehicles to burn"

"Roger, spread the word, and have Snape set up a link with Reaper, we need to strike ASAP or our window will close and we'll have to wait for the next convoy"

"Roger, on it"

Hyena slowly crawled back, avoiding any vegetation rustling, and kept himself in a low crouch while he went to each and every member of he team to put them up to speed on the battle-plan.

* * *

><p>Viper and Reaper Team crawled over their bellies, nearing the top of the ridge-line. They reached the elevated terrain, lying still and keeping themselves out of sight from the direction of the target's arrival. Jester was the only figure moving, slightly lower from the hill-top to avoid giving away the rest of the squad, all the while he prepared a short-wave encrypted transmission to raise Garuda Team.<p>

"Pipeline to Garuda is ready, boss" Jester whispered into his throat-mike.

"Roger. Garuda Actual, this is Reaper Lead. Come in, over."

"Garuda Actual here. We were standing-by on you guys, the party is about to start. Request your current position, over."

"We are... err... five-hundred meters at your... eleven-o-clock. Confirm that the cost is clear, over."

"Confirmed, the coast is clear, Reaper, I repeat, the coast is clear."

"Roger, flashing you a signal, stand by" as he grabs his flashlight and flashes three quick dots towards Garuda's general direction

"I see you, Reaper. You are spot-on. From you current position you can lay down suppressing fire on the back of the convoy and keep the enemy boxed-in. What do you have in the way of anti-vehicle, over?"

"Not much, we've got a couple of M72s with incendiary warheads and a SMAW with two spare HEAA rockets. Long story short: just enough firepower for the job at hand."

"More than we have, though. If shit hits the fan we are counting on you to get us through it."

"Not liking how that sounds, Garuda, tell me we didn't come here unprepared."

"I hope not, Reaper, but things can go tits up very easily in this line of work. Radio silence from now until contact. Garuda out"

"WILCO" Viper finally said, to an already dead line.

* * *

><p>Time bled away as the already-low sun settled below the horizon. Two hours stretched into four, and then into five, and both teams were having significant doubts about the veracity of their intelligence sources.<p>

"Boss, something is wrong" Whopper whispered all the way towards were Viper laid, looking towards the projected combat area. He was scanning the place, trying to make out anything, but he knew that, between the combined sight-lines of both teams and the real-time imaging of the field-drone that Garuda had deployed, it was nearly impossible that they had missed a vehicle convoy of such size.

"I know. Jester, patch me up through Garuda's comms. I'm not liking this one little bit."

"Roger, right on it."

A faint buzzing sound signaled the drone's low fly-by, the last one it was going to make until the next refueling.

"Garuda, Reaper. What the hell is going on? You said the convoys were regular on their schedules. This one is off by three hours, over."

"I am aware, Reaper Actual... Hold up. Eyes on the road, Reaper, there's a dust column.. And it's goddamn big..."

"Oh, shit... Of course its big, Garuda, I've got eyes on enemy armor, goddamit!" Viper gritted his teeth.

* * *

><p>He was not wrong. The vehicle column was now escorted by four fully-armored M1A2 Abrams tanks. The behemoths, two at the front and two in the rear of the formation, moved as fast as their engines allowed them to, and their 120mm smooth-bore guns aimed just slightly up into the air. Viper once again muttered an insult, while the rest of the squad could only watch and wonder what to do next.<p>

"Boss? What now?"

"Good question..."

Ghoul watched with growing dismay as the armored hulks inched their way forward.

The attacking teams lacked the proper firepower to ensure the upper hand, and the only real advantage they possessed was the element of surprise and elevation. _Not good_. He had to make a decision, and such a call would surely have great consequences on the upcoming assignments. Aborting now would mean that the economic pipeline of the enemy would still be running, and any future infrastructural attacks would be nothing but paper cuts to them. On the other hand, attacking now would be no guarantee of success, and their bodies on the international press would blow open the agency's involvement in the conflict...

"Abort mission. I repeat, abort mission! Let them pass and then regroup and retreat"

No one could believe what was happening. While they certainly understood the logic behind it (there's a line between the call of duty and an outright suicide mission, and they weren't about to cross it just because), it was not in their language to retreat or surrender on the first go.

"Say again, Garuda? The target is in position"

"We don't have enough firepower against that armor. Even only ONE miss from your SMAWS and we are in a tight spot as it is..."

"The mission parameters are clear, Garuda. If the objective is well within our capabilities our orders are to carry on"

"Yes, and this is _not_ within our capabilities, Reaper. We are standing by, period!"

Viper just looked back at the enemy column, and he made his own decision.

"Jester, get me Rapier on the line. As the spook-in-chief he supersedes us all in authority"

"On it, Boss"

* * *

><p>Rapier watched the thermal imaging from the UCAV on his Agency-issued laptop. He had known about the armored column just a bit earlier than the teams on the ground, and the radio-silence had made any communication with them near to impossible. Yet he was fully expecting the call.<p>

"Rapier"

"This is Viper. Are you seeing this?"

"Affirmative. Not good. The firepower you've got is enough if you don't miss, but we all know too well how things get FUBAR in the heat of battle."

"Is there any air support you can give to us?"

"The UCAV has two Hellfire anti-tank missiles ready to fire. After that you are on your own. What do you recon?"

"Have the UCAV take out the front armor, we'll take care of the rear ones. Garuda is gonna be pissed."

"They don't call the shots in here, I do. Get it done, and get it done now. I'll deal with Ghoul later."

"Roger"

The line went dead, and the other three people in the room prepared to engage the enemy for the troops on the ground.

* * *

><p>"Garuda, Reaper. Orders came through: we are attacking the convoy. Prepare to engage."<p>

"Orders from whom? I gave the order to stand down!"

"From higher up. Either do your job or look for a new one, but this is happening right now"

"Roger" came the stiff response.

It started too fast, almost surreal. A low hiss, which quickly turned into a roar that culminated into one of the armored beasts blossoming into a ball of heated gas, while a jet of molten metal and fragmented armor was propelled into the tank's interior, killing the crew almost instantly. Had the tank been equipped with the same armor the American military outfitted in their own armor, maybe the crew would have had a better chance at survival. But these particular vehicles had no active or passive protection systems, and thus, they were open for the taking. But the UCAV only carried two missiles at a time.

The second Hellfire didn't trail too far, tearing the second Abrams apart, the severed turret landing in a heap by it's side. The smoldering husks blocked further access forward for the rest of the column, and the enemy knew it. They tried to back off, retreat the way they came, but the surviving armor in the back was too slow. Jonesy aimed the SMAW at the furthest tank, calculating for the tank's movement backwards. He triggered the launcher, activating the rocket's solid-state fuel cell and sending the High-Explosive, Anti-Armor warhead straight towards the point where the turret and the chassis met. The warhead exploded on contact, crippling the tank, while Jonesy reloaded the launcher with another single-use rocket canister. A volley of fire erupted from Garuda's position, well-aimed, controlled, semi-automatic fire that peppered the shocked convoy and pinned the down. The enemy combatants tried to mount up an insipid defense, but the combined fire from the attackers mowed most of them down right were they stood, while the few survivors scrambled for cover behind any rock they could find.

"Jonesy!" Viper shouted, trying to make himself heard over the deafening clatter of the squad's weapons.

"I know, sir!"

The second rocket was fired, streaking towards the last functioning tank. As it seemed to be straight on-target, the unthinkable happened. The warhead hit the armor in an oblique angle, but instead of detonating it ricocheted off the armor plating, careening aimlessly and harmlessly away from its intended objective.

"Shit! DUD! I repeat, DUD!" Jonesy yelled, as he reloaded the SMAW once more. Viper, with his 416, tried to give him as much covering fire as possible, driving back into cover anyone trying to fire at them, but it was a losing battle when most of the fire was coming from the surviving tank's machine guns.

"Scatter, now!" he had time to shout, and Reaper Squad moved away as fast as they could before an earth-shattering boom shook the position they had been occupying. The Abrams' smoking 120mm gun, aimed in their direction, told the story of how the crew refused to go the same way the other three had. Despite their bravest attempt, the third rocket sailed towards them and then impacted the front of their vehicle, obliterating the weakened armor and leaving the vehicle smoldering.

"Armor Is down! Hit 'em hard!" Ghoul relayed, and the intensity of the fire picked up until all that could be heard was the cycling of weapon mechanisms and all that could be seen where the streaks of tracer ammunition illuminating the sky.

"Clear the back-blast!" was heard, and a flash of light momentarily illuminated a crouching figure. This fourth missile was directed towards the surviving infantry, and ignited into a dense cloud of smoke and turned the area into an inferno. Viper had really hopped it wouldn't come to that.

**So, that's it for now. As usual, any feedback and opinions in reviews will be appreciated. **


End file.
